


Written In

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Depression, Friendship, Other, Suicide, THIS IS THE WEIRDEST AU I HAVE EVER WRITTEN WHAT THE FUCK, Trains, a suicide does a happen, abuse reference, also barely haiyuu, but it's vague, like i know who the author is in my head but im not telling, only 2 characters from haikyuu, this is sad wtf, weird character pairing too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You see, the two of us met months ago, when The Author came up with the idea to write our tale. There wasn't necessarily much about Daichi to learn. He was nineteen, a librarian working two days a week. And that's pretty much it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not much more of an entertaining description: An eighteen year old boy who hangs around a train station.





	

The Author sat at a dark, mahogany bedside table, soaking up each individual vivid constituent that was just dragged through their brain, like watercolors across paper. A dream had come to them quite a while ago...one of which The Author would never forget, filed in their brain right in between Unrealistic Ideas and Those Thoughts That Never Leave You. 

 

It had stayed there, yearning endlessly for attention yet being abruptly put out like a candle every time...But, of course, the waxy drips discharged from the candle would pool at the bottom. Creating yet another idea, to build atop the previous. Finally The Author succumbed to the burning flame of an idea, madly scrawling down chapter titles. They liked the deep satisfaction of seeing innumerable page numbers fly by. 

 

But what most authors do not know, is that they bring their characters to life through adjectives and nouns. And not just for The Reader. The characters in a story truly become living and breathing people. They are knowledgeable of the fact that they are written into a book. But the catch: They cannot change what happens to them...They can't control their fate whatsoever. Some have happy endings.

 

Some do not.

 

Sometimes...When The Author is not writing, when The Reader is not reading, the characters can be themselves- They can write themselves into the parchment and etch their future into the white paper. But, that always disappears when The Author is writing again. But, you see, characters usually accept their fate...They'd be happy with what they're given. And that was the case until The Author was at the little mahogany table.

 

Just writing.

 

Writing a story with two boys, and a train station.

 

And inevitably, an ending.

 

~

 

The Author is writing:

 

Kuroo sat at the very edge of his usual battered up seat, kicking up the forgotten litter that tumbled along the dirty, concrete train station floor. They reminded him of old memories, ones that were left behind or forgotten and now went on their own, solitary. He was never anywhere else but the indoor station, and tried not to think about home or school. Both of which never occupied Kuroo's time so often. Tetsurou's usually at the station. At his station. You see, it's like a second home, if the boy had a first one. But that's a story for another time. 

 

Kuroo barely noticed when a man walked over to the seat next to him, sitting cautiously. Tesurou looked over the guy. He was at least a year older than him, had neat, dark hair, and wore mostly black. The guy stuck out a hand to Tetsurou, despite the fact that he was mostly obscured from his vision and quite clearly wasn't looking to be social.

 

“Hello. I'm Daichi," He said quietly. Kuroo shook Daichi's hand skeptically, soaking in the situation like a sponge. 

 

“Oh, hello. I'm Kuroo. Can I help you?" He said, coming off as maybe a tad bit rude. But his tone was nothing to worry about. Daichi was one to forgive.

 

“Ah, just looking for a bit of company," He seated himself a bit further down the connected leather seats, “Also, I see you here a lot," Sawamura blurted out, as if he were a boiling tea kettle ready to blow.

 

A small, curious smile spread across Tetsurou's face, making its way to the apples of his cheeks.

 

“Oh, you do, now?" Kuroo asked, wondering if this man had watched him at the station before. Tetsurou flushed a muted crimson color at the thought.

 

“Well, I come here Wednesdays and Fridays to catch the train to work. You're always here when I'm boarding," Daichi clarified. The man wasn't seeming dangerous anymore; More trustworthy.

 

“I'm here when most people are boarding, actually..." Kuroo muttered under his breath. Sawamura's face crinkled into a maze of despondency.

 

“Clarification? He asked promptly. 

 

“I basically never leave the place. Always...here, I guess," Tetsurou responded as the 3:45 train took off. 

 

~

 

The Author is not writing:

 

I sighed when the fake scene dissolved, leaving Daichi and I in a mass of sadness and confusion.

 

You see, the two of us met months ago, when The Author came up with the idea to write our tale. There wasn't necessarily much about Daichi to learn. He was nineteen, a librarian working two days a week. And that's pretty much it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not much more of an entertaining description: A fifteen year old boy who hangs around a train station. Boring, I am aware. 

 

But now Sawamura and I couldn't think of anything but our Ending. The ending to our story, the one The Author thought of a while ago. Thanks to The Author's frequent and obsessive writing, we were almost to the singular last page of the book they were writing. Just a few more, and we'd be to our fate.

 

It was a dark one Daichi and I didn't really want to experience. 

 

It racked my brain non-stop, never leaving the deepest depths of my reeling mind, never escaping no matter how much I begged for it to. Sawamura wasn't much worse. I knew by the somber, stoic look on his face that he was thinking about the ending, too. 

 

“I'm going to get my mind off things. See you later, Dai," I muttered with a sharp breath as I stood from the seat's tattered edge, walking towards the ticket section of the station. I broke into a jog, hoping to lose him and board a train that I would just end up riding back here. 

 

Sawamura's familiar footsteps soon followed.

 

“Where do you think you're going, Kuroo?" He asked, catching up with me easily as I approached a booth slowly for a 4:00 train ticket. I looked up at Daichi.

 

“I'm getting a ticket, obviously. By myself, I might add." Sawamura smiled a bit, something I haven't seen him do to since the discovery of our Ending. It felt warm for a second.

 

“May I remind you that you can't even board a train by yourself?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. As much as I despised to admit it, Daichi was indeed right. I had a fear of it. Then again, I already intended to let Dai come with me. He would end up buying two tickets, and I would sit by the window in the back, and he would stand holding onto the shiny silver pole. This happened at least twice a week.

 

I arrived at a booth, the one with a pretty lady. Sawamura's got a crush on Her, but I can never even remember the girl's name. I find Her slightly annoying and, in all actuality, pretty naïve. 

 

“Hey, Daichi..." She said, looking him in his dark brown eyes as if she's trying to burn them with hers.

 

“And hello to you, too," I muttered, waiting for Her to acknowledge me. She glared at me, which Sawamura didn't notice. Of course. But, hey, she acknowledged me, right? We're getting there.

 

“Two tickets for the 4:00 train, if we're not too late," Dai said to Her, leaning on the counter. I scoffed and rolled my eyes at the pathetic exchange. Another glare.  
“Nope, you're right on the dot, if you hurry," She said slowly, also leaning closer. I spoke up.

 

“Yeah, yeah, can we get those tickets now?" I questioned, breaking up this little scene. She slid two paper slips in Sawamura's direction, making sure Her pretty fingers overlapped his in the transition of money. I grabbed his arm sharply, turning him away from the booth and the pretty girl. Daichi was now the one glaring. 

 

“Really?" He hissed under his breath. I smiled sweetly and gave my ticket to the machine collector. 

 

But the little nagging sensation in my stomach erupted once again.

 

The Author was writing again, and we only had a few more real seconds before they would get to The Ending. I looked with worried eyes at Daichi, knowing this was our last true conversation. He was breathing nervously, blinking at me. Sawamura grabbed my cheek and kissed it gently, it was moments such as these where I wondered if he cared at all about be upset over our Ending. Did he bother to think about it as much as I did?

 

"See you, Kuroo."

 

~

 

The Author is Writing:

 

The nearly palpable silence of the train station when all the trains had left was ominous. On Sundays, not many people take trains, and there are only three that leave. The 8:00 A.M. train, the 12:00 P.M. train, and the 8:30 P.M. train. But when there aren't any departures or arrivals, almost nobody is occupying the station. 

 

Well, except Kuroo. He basically never leaves. And, most recently, Daichi. Silent company is no better or worse than real conversation. But now, Tetsurou needed the real conversation. 

 

He had been depressed for a while now. His cheeks were sunken in, and his lips were losing color.

 

Daichi was really the only thing Kuroo stayed here for. He knew that, so started speaking into the once-silence.

 

“It's almost completely dark out. Do you want me to walk you home?" Sawamura muttered quietly. He bit his lip, whispering as loudly as he could while shivering.

 

“I...I think I might stay here tonight..." Kuroo said to him.

 

“The last time you did that, your parents were furious," Daichi claimed, knowing it might make a dent in his decision. 

 

“They're always furious," Tetsurou said, speaking up a bit and fiddling with his cold fingers. Sawamura sighed. He didn't have to work on Mondays. And if Kuroo stayed tonight, he stayed tonight. So staying it was.

 

“Alright....It's almost 7:00. The train'll be here at 8:30, so you might want to act like you're waiting for it instead of being a stowaway." He had a point. Kuroo uncrossed his legs and pulled a magazine out of his bag, pretending to read.

 

A few moments of silence went by, and the air around Tetsurou and Daichi grew colder as the night went by. The tension in the room was tightly drawn and mysterious, as if an idea floated in the air that was yet to be spoken of. Which...it was. At 8:00, Sawamura started to speak again.

 

“Would you like to talk, Kuroo?" He blinked.

 

“What is there to talk about?"

 

“I just know what you're feeling. And I want to help," Dai said, looking at him. A strand of hair fell over Kuroo's face, and Daichi brushed it away so that he could see him. 

 

“I don't want help, thank you." Sawamura opened his mouth, then shut it abruptly. If Kuroo truly didn't want help, he wouldn't help him. He would just drop it. Tetsurou went back to “reading". And Daichi went back to getting lost in thought. 

 

He thought about trains and a girl and depression and....Eventually he started thinking about the strangest thing. Just a rose, sitting upon a small white table. Simply sitting.

 

It was 8:15. 

 

“Train's almost here..." Kuroo muttered, standing. Daichi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

 

“And?" 

 

“Bye, Sawamura," He said, looking at him. Daichi rolled his eyes and stood.

 

“You can't board a train without someone, remember?" He asked. Kuroo's eyes were glassy and Sawamura realized that tears were almost spilling from them. Something was off. Very, very off. He was silent for a moment.

 

“Alright, Dai." He motioned for him to come along. 

 

“What's wrong? Why are you about to cry?" He demanded, slowly trudging along, bring the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach with them. He didn't speak, but instead slowed their pace mutually. 

 

~

 

The Author is Not Writing:

 

I gasped in realization of freedom. Daichi looked at me with wide eyes and I pulled him into a tight hug, breathing heavily into his shoulder.

 

“I...I thought they were gonna just end the book there..." I said in between breaths. He nodded his head.

 

“Me too. I...I don't get it...why are they taking another break before they finish?" Sawa questioned. I shook my head, pulling away in a daze.

 

“I have no idea..." 

 

“We probably don't have a lot of time before they start writing again, you know," Daichi stated. I nodded my head, knowing we'd both succumbed to our Ending, anyway. Nevertheless, we both hyperventilated. I started to hiccup and Sawamura had to steady me by my shoulders.

 

“It's okay, Tetsurou. Just hold on." I did as he said, closing my eyes and trying to hold onto the last smidge of freedom that had begun to slip away forever. I snapped my eyes open, looking at Daichi in panic. Anxiety registered across his face and our final scene began to blur.

 

In the last second we would ever have, Sawamura held me tight. The last memory of freedom I had - I felt his tight grasp.

 

~

 

The Author is Writing:

 

When Daichi wasn't looking, a tear slipped down Kuroo's face, wetting the soft skin as a mark of sadness.

 

“I'm sorry, Sawamura. I'm really sorry." Dai was confused by his sentence. What was Tetsurou talking about?

 

“What? Why are you sorry?" He demanded. Kuroo just continued to cry. And it was 8:25.

 

“Goodbye," Kuroo whispered. He turned without desiring to see his reaction, but Daichi inevitably followed. Tetsurou stepped close to the edge of the raised concrete platform where the ground dipped and tracks ran endlessly.

 

“No, no, no....Stop it, just stop!" Sawamura yelled. He knew what Kuroo intended to do. 

 

He was going to commit suicide.

 

“I can't, I'm sorry..." Tetsurou pleased with him, looking back at Daichi's alarmed expression.

 

8:27.

 

Dai turned around and put his face in his hands, thinking hard. A nasty feeling arose in the pit of his stomach.

 

Sawamura knew Tetsurou wasn't about to back down from this.

 

So there was only one way to solve the little problem.

 

“Kuroo," He started. Tetsurou looked at the other with hazy eyes. They had a bit of hope, they reached out and said, 'Convince, me, I beg you!'

 

“Kuroo, if you won't step away, I'm coming with you." Tetsurou took a sharp breath as Sawamura stepped forward and joined him on the edge.

 

“The hell are you doing?" Kuroo muttered, almost angry. Daichi breathed heavily.

 

“I'm coming with you if you won't back down. I don't want to live if you're not here," Sawamura responded, locking eyes with the overwhelmed boy.

 

8:29.

 

Daichi took Kuroo's cold, clammy hand in his and grasped it tightly. Sawamura knew this was the end.

 

A train's cold, unnerving, rickety wheels slammed against tracks and Dai heard it before he saw it. It rushed closer.

 

And closer.

 

And closer.

 

And finally, it was almost close enough. A tear slipped down Daichi's cheek. It was the last thing on the concrete that he saw. Sawamura held Tetsurou's hand in a crushing grab as they pitched themselves off of the raised ledge.

 

And everything seemed to be in slow motion. 

 

Two people, two males, were jumping, not waiting to board the 8:30 train. The engineer tried to stop, but it was a lost cause anyway.

 

The pretty girl at her booth stumbled backwards as her mind reeled crazily while witnessing a double suicide, too late to save anyone.

 

Someone sitting down and smoking a cigarette knew Kuroo as the carefree boy who always spent his time here. The strain of seeing something like this nearly knocked them out, but they rushed to the edge anyway to see if the bodies were motionless yet.

 

Shame, really, it was even too late for them to catch a train now.

 

But that's the deceased for you: late, in every sense of the word.

 

Daichi and Kuroo flailed like two connected birds, soaring into a short flight of death. And something struck them, not simply the train.

 

A flash of blinding light.

 

A sudden burst of unbearable agony.

 

And then....darkness.

 

~

 

The Author Will No Longer Write:

 

Daichi's View:

 

My hand uncurled against something hard and rough that scraped my knuckles. Concrete. It had been stained before with soda and footprints and even cigarette burn marks, but I couldn't have been more surprised to see that it was stark white.

 

My attention carried over to the rest of the familiar, almost nostalgic train station. I finally got used to my eyes being opened, and I sat up in a daze. Yes, this was the same station.

 

The one where I'd just been forced to commit suicide with Kuroo.

 

But instead of being dirty and chaotic, it was all a bright light that hurt my eyes and nearly, as far as I could tell, uninhabited. I was attired in my regular clothes, which seemed dark compared to the rest of the place. 

 

The little nagging, sickly sensation in my stomach was almost gone, but came back a bit when I thought of the jump. 

 

The Author had made us jump in front of a train and kill ourselves.

 

I blinked away a few tears. 

 

Sitting up fully, I came to a final conclusion: Our book was finally done. We were free.

 

Free...the word made me feel all giddy and light.

 

I laid back down as the result of a monstrous pounding in my left temple, my vision blurring again. Everything was a surreal haze until I spotted what was really strange about the place. A little white stand sat there contently. And on it was a rose. Also just sitting. The object intrigued me, of course, and I wondered if it had a purpose. Something next to me that I just started noticing now stirred, and I looked over.

 

Tetsurou was awakening. 

 

His eyes fluttered open and I sat up again, ignoring the rising headache. I kneeled over Kuroo's body as I could tell he was getting used to his surroundings, taking them in like I previously had. 

 

“Sawamura, where am I?" He asked. I offered a weak smile.

 

“It's definitely your train station. The Author finished writing us in," I explained. Kuroo brightened a bit, then frowned when he noticed the bedside table.

 

“What is that?" He asked. 

 

“I...I don't know, really." Tetsurou frowned again, stronger this time around. It was a bit confusing to see something like that at the train station...The color of the flower contrasted beautifully, but still. Odd.

 

But then it struck me: My character in the story was thinking about it during the period of time when The Author was writing. Did this symbolize the meeting ends of the Written In world and our world. I couldn't think up anything that contradicted the thought.

 

That meant it was over. That meant the book was completed, and we were free.

 

Kuroo crawled over to the stand and took the rose, smelling it. I sat beside him and grabbed his other hand.

 

We were finally done. No more strain of going in between messed up worlds.

 

We were no longer Written In.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this forever ago but i still like the general concept. i am sorry that sadness is involved. please validate me anyway


End file.
